Les
by Utopia Today
Summary: Les is not the same as when we last saw him. He's run away and matured a great deal. But at sixteen, he still has some growing up to do. (Ch. 13 down for revisions--note inside)
1. A bit of a background to

All right, this is my first story posted, and the first fanfiction I've written in over a year. Reviews would rock quite hardcore! I don't exactly know where I'm going to go with this, so don't be disappointed if there's no plot. I write better that way!

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I was sixteen years old in 1905. Teddy Roosevelt was president then, and New York City was buzzing with life. I lived in with my family in Manhattan. When I say family, I don't mean my kin. I lived with my best friends in an old building full of bunk beds.

My name is Lester Jacobs, and was a newsie.

My father had died a few years before I'd left home. Nothing was really the same after that. My mother had lost the light in her eyes; my sister was a married woman and was gone from our lives; my family had saved enough money to put my brother through New York University to be a journalist. There was nothing left for me in that apartment, so I up and left in the summer of 1902.

For awhile after I had been staying in the Newsboys Lodging House in Manhattan, I felt guilty for leaving my mother alone. Selfish, even. I did love her, but the last exciting thing that had happened to me was three years before I ran. There was always something missing from my life after the strike in 1899. I was positive that that something was excitement.

I peddled about fifty papers a day. At thirteen, I still looked to be about eleven, and that worked to my advantage. I had money in my pockets and food in my stomach. There was no reason for me to miss my mother. I knew a hundred kids and had many friends. Life was pretty good. I was dirty and probably smelled awful, but that didn't matter much to anybody who I cared about. I had forty brothers who I could trust and count on. Nothing gets better than that.

Looking back, I realize that I probably had some abandonment issues. My father had died when I was only eleven. My sister became Sarah Kelly and lived hundreds of miles away. As for my brother? I saw him only at Christmastime.

I cared about David more than I can say. He was my best friend, and I wanted to be just like him. When he left, I thought nothing of it, because I would always see him. As each month passed, the gap between visits grew wider. He was just too busy to be my brother anymore.

At fourteen, life was just the same. As the older newsies left, younger boys with hopeful eyes moved in. I felt joy, rejection, pain, love, sadness. I was still content with the life I had chosen.

Only once—when I was fifteen—did I walk past my old apartment building. I had not seen my mother since she kissed me goodnight two years before. I was confident that I would never see her again, and that disappointed me. I knew it was worth our suffering, though. I had created a life for myself that I'll never regret.

Thus begins 1905. January started out cold, with horrible selling weather. I was selling 30 a day, at best. My best friend Johnny Slye was well-respected among the Manhattan newsies. You might even say he was the leader. Whatever Johnny did, he always got my opinion, whether he wanted it or not.

In 1905, I was sixteen. I was a newsie.


	2. A typical day in the life of

"Les."

"Hmm?"

"Wake up."

Just seconds earlier, it seemed, I had been lying comfortably on my back, closing my eyes, scratching my head. Now, six hours later, I was on my stomach. My right arm was touching the floor, and my pillow was now under the bed completely. I wasn't a still sleeper.

I looked up. It was Rum. "Go away." I closed my eyes and covered my head with my arms.

Rum slapped me. "You're already gonna be at the back of the line. Get up."

"If I'm gonna be at the back, let me sleep," I muttered. I heard Rum walk away, and I sighed contentedly. He was finally going to give me the rest and relaxation that I deserved.

Or maybe he wasn't. I felt cold on my back, which splashed onto my head, and dripped down my sides.

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled. I got up too soon and fell right onto the floor, while Rum laughed and dropped his bucket. "I'll murder ya!"

Rum just smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Put some clothes on, Jacobs. It's time to make some money."

He threw me a towel, and I growled. Most morning usually started off this way, sans icy cold water. That only happened occasionally.

I was too late to get the usual breakfast, which consisted of coffee with bread from the nuns. Quickly I made my way towards the distribution center for the New York World. The line to buy papers was backed up near a half block, and I hated to wait in line. So instead, I gazed up at the headline board.

"THURSDAYS FOR LADIES ONLY AT BROOKLYN SAVINGS BANK"

"GEORGE COLLINS DEATH ACCIDENTAL"

"FREED PRISONER BACK IN COURT"

I grimaced. It was bad enough that good headlines couldn't sell, but when they gave us that junk? I might as well not even try.

"Anything good this morning, Les?"

Johnny Slye stood next to me, hands in his pockets, cigarette between his lips. "Not looking too good, Johnny," I replied. "Might be able to change a few things on that freed prisoner one, but other than that, things look pretty bad. I'm looking at thirty papes this morning."

"Go thirty-five, Les," Johnny said as he took a hand out of his pocket, grabbed the cigarette, and exhaled. "You learned from the best, right?"

"The best," I echoed.

..._you learn from Jack, you learn from the best._

..._thousand papes a week._

..._buy me last pape, mister?_

Johnny handed me his cigarette, and I took a good long drag before giving it back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out half of a bread roll.

"You was sleeping' when I left. Figured you wouldn't eat."

"Thanks."

We walked to the line and waited.

Johnny had been my best friend ever since I first arrived at the lodging house. His parents were long dead, and he'd been living on the streets as a pickpocket and a thief until the strike. After he'd seen what a thousand poor kids could do, he figured he'd join up.

With a name like Johnny Slye, you can pretty much figure that he'd be a natural-born leader. Johnny was just that. His style was different from Jack Kelly or Spot Conlon, however. While Jack was commanding and Spot was articulate, Johnny seemed like he just didn't care. He did, though. He hadn't earned his leadership at any certain point in time. Over the years, he just became respected, and seemed like somebody you can trust your life with.

"Hey Les, you in for poker tonight?" Johnny asked. He threw his cigarette butt to the floor and smashed it with his toe.

I was never very good at poker, or any other card game, for that matter. My father had always told David and I never to lie, cheat, or gamble. I'd only learned the game because Johnny had told me that it was just something that every newsie knew. But when I played, I lost. That's all there was to it.

"Don't think so," I replied after a few seconds of actual consideration. I grinned. "You just want me to play so you can make a few cents."

"I never said that," Johnny said with a sly smile. "Just...show up to the game, all right? From what I hear, Six is bringing along that pretty cousin of his. Don't want to pass that up, now do you?"

I didn't have luck with girls. But, even so, "I guess not."


	3. David and Johnny torment

Thanks to all who reviewed! Buttons, Bookey, and Kaitins--you guys rock hardcore! I actually know where this is going to go now, so keep reading and reviewing!

[edit] Fixed some minor details (which were actually major timeline mistakes). Hope nobody noticed. If you did...they're fixed. Enjoy!

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I had last seen my brother David on my sixteenth birthday. He had taken me out for lunch, on him.

"So where do you want to eat, Les?"

I thought for a moment. "Tibby's."

David smiled. "Some things never change, huh?"

My brother was always good at striking up a conversation. "You sell for The World still, right?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Distribution center's pretty close to the lodging house. It makes sense."

David frowned. "You're still living at the lodging house. I assume, then, that you haven't gone home yet."

"No."

"Les, you have a home of your own, and a mother who loves you." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I stared at the table. "She doesn't know what happened to you, or where you are. Go home."

I looked up at him. "I am home."

"Well...don't you miss her?"

"I guess so." David had no idea how much I missed our mother.

"Then stop being so ungrateful and go back home. You're just a kid. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

I shot David a look that Sarah would scold me for. "You don't understand at all. You think I'm so poor and starving. Well, I'm not. I have friends, and money, and I eat twice a day. You know what it's like to be free like that, and don't you dare deny it. As long as I'm still young I'm going to enjoy it."

"I can't continue to lie to our mother, Lester, and you know that."

"I don't care. You do whatever the hell you please—

"Watch your language!"

"--and I'll do the same. If you tell her where I am, I'll just go somewhere else."

I stood up from my chair and took one last sip of water before pulling my cap on. "I'll see you around."

I had walked a few steps when I heard him speak. "Happy Birthday, Les," he choked out quietly. I gritted my teeth and left the restaurant.

That was in October of 1904. Three months is a long time to go without seeing your brother, especially when you live in the same city, just miles away from each other. I knew David understood me, though, because January came and went, and I'd still seen no sign of my mother.

Sometimes I used to think of the way that things were when I was younger. I suppose everything seems so perfect when you're ten, but this really _was_ perfect. I remember having a million friends, and Jack Kelly was a second brother to me. Well, I guess he still is, seeing as he married my sister. But he took her away. He took everyone away when he left.

Things sort of fell apart with Jack gone. Once proud and defiant, the newsies in Manhattan were dirty and poor, just like they started out as.

I must have been pretty deep in thought, because Johnny smacked me upside the head. "Les!"

Reality snapped back. I was on a street corner. I couldn't feel my ears. My fingers were turning purple and I could see my breath. Unusually cold weather we were having for February.

"Ow, hey! What do you want?"

"What the hell is wrong with you this morning?" Johnny raised an eyebrow. "You been thinkin' again?"

I rubbed the back of my head and scowled. "I'm always thinkin'."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well cut the stupid thinkin' and sell your damn papers. Looks like you got what, thirty there? You've sold five friggin' papes in two hours. Now I don't know about you, but I kinda like to eat, and the only way I eat is if I sell papers." He turned away from me and thrust one of his into the air. "PRISONER FLEES FROM COURT, STILL AT LARGE!...Thanks ma'am. ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"

I smiled. Leave it to Johnny to keep me in line.

Then I saw him. He looked the same as when he'd left, but older now. His eye looked tired and his hair was dirty, but he was still the same. Same eye patch, same Kid Blink. But Blink wasn't a kid anymore. He sat on the ground against the building across the street from me. A young girl whom I guessed to be maybe four or five stood next to him. She was tiny and blonde. I recognized her clothes. They were too big for her. They were his. She was his.

But why would he just be sitting around like that?

_He's homeless. _I bit my lip. He was still looking at me. "Les," he mouthed.

I shoved my papers into Johnny's arms and started to cross the street.


	4. Everybody loves

Wow, I'm updating pretty quickly! Not too many people to thank, save Lady Rach (thanks for reviewing!) Keep the reviews coming!

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"_Can I see your eye?"_ I was ten.

_David put a scolding hand on my shoulder. "Les, that's rude."_

_Blink smiled. "Sure, kid." He lifted his patch. My eyes widened in surprise. I was looking at the strangest eye I'd ever seen. It was blue, but light and milky._

_"So you're just blind. Your eye's still there. You just can't see out of it."_

_Blink lowered the patch and gave me a one-eyed wink._

Kid Blink had always been kind to me. He seemed intimidating at first, and frankly, he probably was to everybody else. But not to me. It broke my heart to see him poor. That's why I had to go to him.

I stood looking down at him. The girl looked up at me with big, curious eyes. Blink spoke. "You're Les Jacobs, aren't you," he said. It was more of a statement than a question. "Davey's little brother."

"Yeah, I am." He stood up. The girl grasped his hand with both of hers. "How long have you been—"

"Three years," he replied. He looked down at his daughter. "Her name's Rosemary. I loved her mother. She died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Blink lifted Rosemary and put her on his hip. "So what did you want?"

I reached into my pocket. "I figured you could use some help," I said as I pulled out a few pennies. I held them in my open palm. "I don't have too much, but even so--"

"I don't want your charity, Les."

"No, but you need it." I still held my offering in front of him. He sighed and took the money.

He then raised his eyebrow. "Les, your fingers are blue."

Sure enough, they were. "Oh, horse shit..." My head snapped up at the realization that I'd just sworn in front of a child. "I'm sorry, I donno where that came from."

Blink smiled. "It's all right. Go home and take care of that." He paused. "And thanks."

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"Of all the idiots in the world who get frostbite, it just had to be you, didn't it?"

"Shut up, Slye."

Johnny grabbed my hand and stuck it in a bucket of near-boiling water. Pain shot up my fingers. "_Jesus Christ_!"

He laughed. "You wuss. You gonna leave it in there, or do I need to help you?" He gave me a toothy, mocking grin.

I glared at Johnny and he removed his hand from the bucket. "I don't get it," I said. Johnny wiped his hand on his shirt. My fingers felt all tingly, and they were burning. "It's February. It's not supposed to be that cold out. And why didn't your fingers get all blue and frozen?"

"Because I'm not an idiot and I kept my hands in my pockets this morning.

I rolled my eyes. "Touché," I mocked. "I bet I'm not the only one with frostbite."

As it turns out, I was the only one. Boy, did I feel stupid. At least it gave me an excuse not to play poker that night.

My hands were bandaged and stuck in somebody's mittens. Johnny said there would be blisters. And man, I sure did love blisters. Except for the fact that I didn't. There was a dull throbbing of pain in my fingers and I growled with discomfort.

I stayed in bed for the rest of the day. My stomach was making noises; I hadn't eaten since the half of a roll from Johnny that morning, and I probably wouldn't eat anything else until breakfast the next day.

It wasn't until I began to smell cigarette smoke and heard the sound of a poker game starting that I got up and left the bunkroom. I had grabbed my coat and pulled it on. Buttoning the damn thing as I walked outside came with a considerable amount of difficulty, seeing as I couldn't use my fingers.

"You want some help?" I looked up. She was beautiful, as far as beautiful could go when you're poor.

Her hair was a very pretty red color, although it was messy and needed some soap. I must have been staring at her, because she uncomfortably asked, "Um...hello?"

"Oh." I snapped out of it. "Sorry. Um...yeah. I could use some help." She smiled slightly and began to fasten the buttons on my coat.

"Frostbite, huh?" she asked. I nodded. "I got frostbite once, when I was younger." She held up her hand. The skin on her fingers was slightly wrinkled and looked tight. "Hurts like hell, don't it?"

"Yeah, it does," I replied. "I'm Les Jacobs."

She smiled. "Poppy Parkview. I'm Six's cousin." She thought for a moment. "Say, aren't you Davey Jacobs' brother? Davey Jacobs the strike leader?"

I frowned a bit. "I wouldn't exactly call him a strike leader. But yeah, I'm his brother."

"A really swell thing those guys did. Really swell. Six joined the strike, even though he wasn't even a newsie yet. He really looked up to them; to Jack Kelly and Davey Jacobs."

"So did I."

_Cowboy, they called him cowboy...sixty-forty, I forget the whole thing...if we don't sell papes then nobody sells papes...just a bunch of angry kids with no money..._

"Say, whatever happened to your brother anyways? He still in New York? He's gotta be what, twenty-three now?"

For someone so shy-looking, Poppy sure had a lot to ask. "David's twenty-two. He's going to be a newspaper reporter. At least, that's what he wants to do. He just got out of the university. I haven't seen him in months."

"That's too bad," said Poppy. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, but I get to see Six every day. He's kinda like a brother to me, except we're not as much related. I sell papers in Brooklyn for the New York Sun. They have more girls in Brooklyn than they do in Manhattan." She really enjoyed talking, but I didn't mind that much. I wasn't too much of a talker anymore. "Probably because they were all melting over that Spot Conlon boy. But he died, what would it be, two years ago? Yeah, two years. So I guess all the girls just didn't want to leave."

"Yeah, I heard about that. That was too bad." Spot Conlon had been found beaten to death for the mere coins in his pocket. Jack and Sarah came back from New Mexico for his funeral. That was the last time I had seen either of them.

"Yeah. Six was pretty broken up about it. He didn't talk to anybody for a few days. After all, Six had been a newsie in Brooklyn since he was just nine years old. I think he came to Manhattan to sell The World because Brooklyn had too many painful memories."

I nodded. "That would make sense." Had I left home because of my father's death? I didn't know.

It was nice to have Poppy talk to me. She always had something to say, so it was never awkward because I didn't talk very much. As she talked, I smiled. I even laughed once or twice.

"Hey Les?"

"Yeah Poppy?"

"You wanna maybe take a walk?"

I smiled. "Yeah. Yeah I do."


	5. Things change for

Poppy had a ton of interesting things to say as we walked. I pretty much forgot the stiff bandages and huge mittens that protected my hands from freezing again. I found that I would stare at her, only for a few moments, before I came back to reality. She was great.

"So why are you a newsie, Les?" Poppy asked me as we rounded another corner. "No offense, but you don't seem like the on-the-street type of guy."

I thought back to six years ago._ If anyone asks, you should say you're seven._ "It started when my father got hurt at his job," I explained. "He was fired, so there was no other way to make money. My brother David and I were both in school, but my father pulled us both out to work until he healed. That's when the strike happened. My father only got worse, though. Once his arm was back together, he started to get sick. ...He died. David went back to school, like he promised, and so did I. I ran away three years ago, and this is what I've been doing ever since."

Poppy waited a moment before speaking. "So you enjoy it?" she asked.

"It's a fine life," I said as I turned to look at her. "I feel so free. I can do whatever I want and nobody has the power to stop me."

"So...you do things as a newsie that you couldn't do at home?"

"Well yeah. I mean, my mother would never let me smoke."

"So you ran away so you could smoke?"

I frowned. "That ain't fair. You got no idea what things were like when I was younger."

"But I do know that you gave up a family for...for _this_." She took my hand and held it up. I looked down at the ugly mitten. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." I suddenly became quite aware that she hadn't moved her hand from mine.

Awkward silence. "So..."

"So..."

I put my hand back down and shoved it in my pocket, noting the disappointment in Poppy's eyes. "Um...how many papes are you sellin' these days?"

We continued to walk. "Sixty or more with a skirt. Forty when I'm 'in disguise.'" She grinned, and then explained, "Sometimes I get annoyed when guys buy papers from me just to they can see the goods, so I borrow Six's clothes and put my hair up. I make less money, but it's good to get a break once in awhile."

I laughed. "So you're a cross-dresser!"

Poppy smiled. "No, I'm not!" she giggled. "I just, you know, sometimes enjoy suspenders and cap more than something like this." She grabbed her skirt with one hand. I then began to notice the detail of her clothing—the pattern on her skirt and the buttons on her coat. I found myself wondering if her mittens were itchy, or if she'd ever kissed a boy.

"It's getting pretty late," Poppy said. We'd been walking in silence for awhile. "Maybe we should turn around and head back. I know Six will want to walk me home."

"There's a girl's house just a few blocks from us," I suggested. "You could stay there. Brooklyn's a long walk on a cold night."

She shook her head. "My friends will worry," she declined. "We're a tight-knit group."

"I know how that goes," I said, nodding.

We got back to the lodging house just as things began to quiet down. The game was over, and I had a feeling that once again, Johnny Slye was a few bucks richer than the rest of us.

"I'd like to see you again," Poppy said suddenly.

I was taken aback. "Oh..." I said. My heard was pounding out of my chest. "Okay...um...you know where to find me."

She smiled a bit. "Thanks for the walk." A soft kiss on the cheek was all I got, and then she quickly turned away and ran towards Six, who was waiting for her and laughing.

I took a moment to recover. "Uh...thanks for the, uh, buttoning my coat..." She was already gone, and I felt pretty damn stupid.

Johnny was behind me. I knew because I could hear him laughing. "So, you found yourself a girl, huh Les?"

"Shut it, Johnny," I muttered as I turned around and walked past him. I was heading up the stairs when I realized he was following me.

"Hey Les, why didn't you ever tell me you had a little sister?" he asked me.

"Because I don't have a little sister, that's why." I rolled my eyes. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"Well I guess it might be because your cousin came to drop your little sister off," Johnny said. We were at the top of the stairs, and I was thoroughly confused. "She's sleeping in your bed. The guy told me to give you this."

Johnny pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, which I took. Realization hit me like a fist to the face. "Say...what did this cousin of mine look like?" I asked.

"He was real dirty, blonde hair, eyepatch--"

"Oh God."

I ran into the bunkroom to find that my suspicions were correct. There, asleep in my bed, was Blink's daughter.

Nothing made sense to me. "But...but how did he know I was here?" I asked myself aloud. "What the hell is he thinking?" I turned to Johnny. "What did he say to you?"

Johnny shrugged. "Just that he was leaving town and wanted you to take care of your sister for him." My mouth hung open. "I know, I thought it was weird too. You would think that your sister would live with your mom, not your cousin."

"Johnny, I don't _have_ any cousins!" I yelled before I remembered that Rosemarie or whatever her name was was asleep. Lowering my voice, I continued, "Not any who are older than me, anyways. I know that guy...he was friends with my brother. This is his daughter! What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Johnny asked. "I'm going to sleep. The bum wrote you a damn letter. Maybe you should consult that before you get all crazy."

I was still holding the paper. Johnny walked past me. I took a few deep breaths, trying to make sense of everything. It wasn't until I'd calmed down a bit before I unfolded the paper and read what Blink had written.

Les—

Don't be angry. Rosemary's a real sweet kid, I promise. She don't talk much, she don't have to eat much. Just please don't turn her over to one of those places for kids with dead parents. I was there until I was fourteen and it was Hell. She deserves better. Her mom would have wanted this. I'm not coming back. Tell her I love her.

—Blink

I found myself repeating the words "Oh God" at least twenty times before somebody put a hand on my shoulder. "You all right, Les?"

"No, go away, oh God..._oh God_."

I slept on the floor that night.

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Buttons—Thanks so much for all your reviews! You've been encouraging me to keep writing, and I don't think you know that Thanks a bunch, you're really great!

Repeat—Haha, I love flashbacks! They're always the best/worst part of movies, so that's why I put them in my stories!

Cricket—Les without fingers would be like a day without sunshine, or ice cream without jimmies. And I maintain that Spot was ganged up on. Only makes sense, right? ...Right?


	6. Rosemary warms up to

As I slept, I was ten years old again.

_The building was huge. I was afraid to go in, but I trusted Jack. The doors closed, and everything was dark until my eyes adjusted. Jack put a hand on my back and led me towards a reception desk._

_The receptionist looked like he hadn't been happy in years. "And what can I do for you..._gentlemen_?" he asked as he stuck his nose in the air._

_"My friend here and I need to talk to Pulitzer," Jack replied. "Now."_

_The receptionist laughed a bit. "You can't see Mr. Pulitzer," he said._

_"But we're—"_

_"Nobody sees Mr. Pulitzer."_

_"Listen, I ain't in the habit of transacting no business with office-boys, all right," Jack growled. "You tell him that Jack Kelly's here to see him _now_."_

_The receptionist stood up and walked around the desk. He grabbed Jack and me both by our collars ("HEY! What the hell--? Get offa me!") and pulled us towards the door, and kicked it open when we got there. "Get out, you hooligans!" he yelled as he threw us out of the building. My eyes were blinded with sunlight._

_"Well so's your old lady!" Jack retorted. "You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with _me_!" _

_"Yeah!"_

Just then, I was tugged out of youth and dreams, and I was harshly sixteen again.

You know how you wake up in the morning with no idea where you were, or why you were there? Well that's how I felt that morning. Half of me was under my bed. I had a pain in my neck and I was still wearing everything I had on the night before—even my coat, and those stupid mittens.

I'm on the floor, I thought. Why am I on the floor? ...Was I drunk? ...Am I still?

I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling. At that moment I remembered. The girl—Rosemary—had been sleeping in my bed. The blood in my hands had frozen. I wasn't drunk, I was sober. Poppy—she kissed me, kind of. Blink left town. Everything was coming back out of order.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what time it was. I shuffled the part of me that was under the bed out from there and sat up. The bunkroom was absolutely deserted, save for one small figure three feet away from me, sitting on my bed.

Now that I actually looked at her, I could definitely tell she came from Kid Blink. She had the same color hair and the same color eyes. Her face spelled negativity but somehow you knew that wasn't the case. Her dress was obviously made from two of Blink's shirts sewn together. And yet with all the Blink in her, she was still half-foreign to me.

"Hi," I said quietly. Rosemary didn't say anything, she just stared at me. The poor kid looked so sad. I was afraid she'd cry.

"Um...I'm Les. You're Rosemary, right?" Again I got no reply. "How old are you?"

She held out five fingers. So the kid could count. That was good. "Five...all right. Well, I gave you all my money yesterday, or else I would get you something to eat."

"I already ate," Rosemary said quietly.

I blinked. Confusion. again?"

"I said I already ate," she repeated. Clearly she wasn't stupid. "A mean-looking boy with a cigarette gave me some bread."

I managed a smile. It was things like that which proved that you could find a heart in Johnny if you really looked. "Are you still hungry?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "Where's papa?" she asked.

Uh-oh. "Um, where did he tell you he was going?" Hopefully I could dodge an honest answer until I could figure out somewhere to put her.

She shrugged. "He said he'd be back."

I fought the urge to yell at her, "Well your father is a bum, and he ain't comin' back because he's irresponsible!" but that would just be rude. "Uh, well Rosemary—"

"You can call me Rosie. I like you."

For the second time in a minute, this kid caught me totally off-guard. I blinked before continuing, "Um, okay Rosie. You see, your papa's gonna be gone for awhile."

"When's he coming back?"

Never. "Soon."

Rosie was silent for a couple of moments. Then her eyes lit up. "Papa said you'd teach me how to read," she said with an innocent smile.

It was strange hearing Blink referred to as "Papa." When I thought of "Papa", I thought of, well, my own father. Just then it occurred to me that this Rosie and I had something in common: our fathers were gone. I bit the inside of my lip.

"Yeah, I'll teach you to read," I said. I took a deep breath and smiled. "I'll teach you everything."

* * *

This was short and sweet. Hope it was enough! I find that whenever I'm bored, I start to write more of this, and then all of a sudden there's enough for a chapter. I know all my chapters are relatively short, but such is the life of the little Jacobs boy!

Raeghann—Thanks! I always thought Les would be more well-liked had he been about six years older, and so that's why I write about him. I read some of your stories, and they're great! No time to review though...mostly coz me = lazy. But just so you know—I've been reading!

Buttons—I donno if Poppy's gonna show up for awhile. We'll see! I'm making this all up as I go along. Hope the semi-flashback in this chapter was good enough for you! ï 


	7. David annoys

With one hand I knocked on the apartment door. My other hand was being held on to like there was no tomorrow. I looked down at Rosie, whose big eyes were staring up at me. She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back with a smile.

I had needed help, so I went to the one place that I knew I could get it from.

"Just a second!" David yelled from inside his apartment. He opened the door a few moments later. "Les," he said with a surprised look. Then he noticed Rosie. "Who's she?"

"Can we come in?"

Rosie had now let go of my hand and was clinging to the back of my shirt. She peeked out at David, and I reached behind myself and put my hand on her head. "Yeah, I guess," David replied. "You have some explaining to do."

I took Rosie's hand again and led her inside the apartment. It wasn't anything special. Really, it wasn't. It was one room that served as a kitchen and bedroom. The toilets were a floor up and down the hallway.

"So who is she?" David asked.

I glanced at Rosie. "Hey Rose, you wanna put your hands over your ears like this?" I covered my ears with my palms. "Really tight, all right?" She did as I asked and sat down on David's bed.

"She's Kid Blink's daughter," I explained.

"Yeah, I heard he got married. How is he? And why do you have her?"

"His wife died and they were on the streets; I saw them yesterday," I continued. Rosie's hands were still covering her ears, and I knew she couldn't hear me or else her expression would have changed. "I went out last night and when I came back she was there." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the folded—and now crumpled—piece of paper. "Blink left this."

I handed it to David, who unfolded and read it quickly. He frowned. "You can't keep her, Les," he said. "You need a family yourself."

I knew he was going to say something along those lines. "I know," I said. "And...that's why I want you to take her."

David blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"It's out of the question!" he exclaimed. "You know I'm busy trying to get some articles put in the paper. I don't have time for her." He sighed. "I suggest you take her to an orphanage."

"But Blink didn't want that; that's why he left her with me!" I argued. "Well...what about Jack and Sarah? Jack's practically her uncle."

"So what are you gonna do, shove the girl on a train and leave it at that?" David asked. "This isn't a good situation, Les. Had you stayed home, this never would have happened in the first place."

"Don't even start that, David," I growled. "I came here for help, not a lecture."

"And you should have expected both," he replied. "Now, my advice is to take her to an orphanage. There's one pretty close to here. If you don't want to, then I can."

"She ain't going to no orphanage."

"This is a human being, Les, not a puppy or something," said David. "You have to think about her health and her future. You can barely feed yourself these days. How do you expect to feed a child, too?

I sighed. David was probably right, but I was growing attached to this little girl and I wasn't going to let her go so easily. "Thanks for your help, Davey," I said. I went over to his bed and took Rosie's hand away from her ear, and hold it as we walked towards the door.

"Les."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't ruin her life."

I picked Roise up and held her on my hip. "David, I'm not a kid anymore," I said sternly. "I can take care of myself and any one else who happens to walk into my life. We're going to be fine, both of us."

* * *

I awoke the next morning to find that I wasn't alone in my bed. Rum had moved off of the top bed in our bunk so that Rosie could sleep there, but I suppose she must have climbed down during the night, because she was fast asleep right next to me, clinging on to my arm.

"Ain't that sweet," Rum commented as he walked past. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Gently I sat up so I wouldn't wake Rosie. I didn't want her to be awake if she didn't have to be yet. I got up out of bed and went over to a sink. I pulled off the mittens that had been on my hands for two days and set them on the countertop. My fingers felt stiff, and they still hurt like hell. As softly as I could I began to unwrap my fingers from the bandages. They were covered with blisters. I groaned in disappointment and pain.

I briefly stuck my hands under the faucet so they would be clean, but not cold. Johnny walked up and stood next to me. "So you're keeping the kid, huh?" he asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, that's the plan," I replied, glancing over at her before grabbing a towel and gently drying my blistered hands. "She's a good girl."

"Seems like it," Johnny said. He reached over the counter and grabbed me some more bandages. "Here," he said. "Lemme help." Johnny wrapped my fingers yet again. "And keep those damn mittens on."

Six appeared across from us. He yawned and scratched his head. "G'morning," he mumbled.

"Hey," I said as I pulled on those ugly mittens. Johnny managed his own "G'morning."

"Listen, Les," Six said. He was buttoning his shirt. "My cousin's been asking about you. You remember her, right? Poppy Parkview?"

My heart jumped. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember her."

Six grinned. "She thinks you're good-lookin'."

Johnny laughed at Six's remark. "Well ain't that swell! Les got himself a girl who thinks he's good-lookin'!"

"Shut up," I muttered.

"Hey, I'm happy for ya!" Johnny said in his defense. "She's not so bad-lookin' herself. Man, Les, if I were you--"

"Hey shut it, Johnny, that's my cousin you're talking about," Six warned.

"Yeah, well you got a pretty cousin. I think that's all I need to say, am I right?" Johnny laughed and elbowed me.

My face burned. I was so damn embarrassed. "Yeah," I said simply. I left those two and went over to my bed, where Rosie was just beginning to wake up.

"Good morning," I said softly. She opened her eyes and looked up at me.

"Hi," she replied quietly. I grabbed my shirt, which was hanging on the corner of the bunk. As I pulled it on (which was pretty hard to do with stiff hands), I explained to her, "I have to go to work, and you have to come with me."

"Okay." Quickly I put on my pants and moved my suspenders over my shoulders. Then I grabbed my coat and pulled it on.

I picked Rosie up and sat her on the edge of the bed. "Lemme get your shoes," I said as I scanned my hand under the bed and grabbed two of the smallest shoes I'd ever seen. They weren't matching, but they looked to be the same size.

I put Rosie's shoes on for her and tied them as best I could twice so the knots wouldn't come undone. She didn't have any other clothes, so I didn't have to change her. I took her coat, which was hardly a coat at all, and helped her into it. "You ready to go?" I asked. She nodded and yawned. The poor girl still looked really tired.

I led her out of the lodging house and into the freezing streets. "We'll get some breakfast," I explained. "You wanna sit on my shoulders?"

"Yeah," she said. I let go of Rosie's hand and crouched down. She took her cue and walked behind me. I held her hands as she placed herself on my shoulders.

"Put'cher arms around the top of my head, Rosie," I instructed, and she obeyed. "You holdin' on tight?"

"Yeah." I stood up, and after I made sure Rosie was secure, I began to walk towards the distribution center

* * *

Thanks for all the reviews! I don't have time for individual SOs tonight, because school starts tomorrow! This can mean one of two things. Either A.) Updates will be less frequent, or B.) They will be larger because I'll write in class. Whatever the case may be, keep reading and reviewing!


	8. Things suck for

Lady Rach—Ah, you're awesome! Thanks for the, like, four reviews! I read them at midnight:30 last night when I couldn't get to sleep, and I was so superbly happy...if superbly is a word that fits in that context...and I don't think it is. But whatever! Thanks!

Dreamer—Have fun at school! My schedule pretty much goes class, off, class, choir, lunch, choir, class, off. I win! But make no mistake, when those three classes get boring, there will be massive amounts of fanfic writing going on!

Repeat—You read my mind! Or maybe you're just smart. Or both. Anyways, be prepared for some Rosie disappointment later on...

Kpstar25—I hate it when that happens! And it does happen to me too! I'll do what I can to keep this one going!

Cricket—Mary-Sue fanfics = everything wrong with the world. I still blame them for any bad luck I have, EVER. I might be joking, I might not be! You know how it goes!

Here's chapter 8! REVIEWS...AHHH. GIVE ME REVIEWS...:::foams at the mouth:::

* * *

"Hey Johnny, you wanna spot me two bits?" I was absoloutely broke. I had been for the past two days, and my best friend knew this.

Johnny raised his eyebrow. "Am I ever gonna get it back?" he asked

"With interest," I replied. Johnny sighed and dug into his pocket.

He pulled out a quarter. "I'm trustin' you, Jacobs," he said, holding the coin between his thumb and his forefinger in front of my face.

I took it and smiled. "You're a real life-saver, you know that?" I said.

"Yeah, yeah, you ain't jokin' neither." Johnny glanced up at Rosie, who was still up on my shoulders. "She's sleepin', you know."

I could feel Rosie's head resting on mine. Her arms were still wrapped around the top of my head, and her legs were draped over my shoulders like a scarf. I had a firm grip on her tiny feet. "Yeah...I kinda figured that when I kept talking to her and she didn't answer," I replied. "I'm just afraid she's gonna fall or something."

"Doubt it," Johnny said with a shrug. "Kids are like monkeys. I was, at least. Climbin' trees in Central Park and sleepin' there. Didn't fall down once." He paused. "Well maybe once. But it didn't do me no harm, now did it?"

I grinned and opened my mouth to say something, but Johnny stopped me. "Not one word, Jacobs...not one word."

Fifty papers would do it for the morning. If I sold every one of them, I could pay Johnny back that day and have an extra quarter. It's doubtful that on a freezing day in February a kid could sell fifty papes, but I was determined enough to do it.

I found a corner void of any other newsie claimed it as my spot for the day. Slowly I crouched down and let go of Rosie's legs. I could feel her stirring as I gently let her down onto the ground.

"You awake?" I asked. I stood up and turned around. Rosie yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm cold," she complained, and I frowned. I couldn't blame her, but what could I do about it?

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said. Now I'm usually not the giving type, especially not when it looks like it'll snow. But I was practically a father now; I had to show some responsibility.

Looking back, it was a stupid idea, but I was starting to love this little girl. I unbuttoned my coat and pulled it off. "You want my coat?" I asked her.

She shrugged. I took that as a yes. "Come 'ere." I helped her put her arms into the sleeves and buttoned one button—there was no need to fasten the coat any more than that. Rosie looked pretty amusing in that coat meant for someone three times her age. I took off my cap and placed it on her head.

"There," I said. "That better?" She nodded. "All right. All you gotta do is just stand here while I sell these papers. That sound okay?" Again, she nodded. "Great. Just...stand there. All right?" Another nod. "Okay."

I grabbed the paper on the top of my stack and thrust it up into the air. The headline was complete junk, so I just came up with something off of the top of my head. "Bloody gang fight in Harlem kills sixteen! Read all about it!" I yelled. That one got me three papers sold. I just had to make sure I didn't get caught lying.

In the half hour that Rosie and I had been standing on that street corner, I'd sold more than half of my papers. I couldn't figure out why, though, until a woman commented about what a "sweet little girl" my "sister" was.

Why didn't I realize this before?

_With this kid's puss and my God-given talent, we could move a thousand papes a week._

Rosie wasn't just a great kid, she was a business lifesaver. An hour passed and the fifty papers had turned into fifty pennies. I stuck them in the pocket of my coat, which still rested on Rosie's shoulders.

Now I don't know if you've ever been out in the cold for an hour with short sleeves and no coat, but it's not too pleasant. I couldn't just take back the coat, though. I'd feel bad. So Rosie got to keep my coat, but as we walked back towards the distribution center, I could feel myself getting weaker and less alert. I couldn't control the shivering.

We must have been close, because I could see Johnny, and Johnny never sells too far away from the distribution center. (He maintains it's because he's so damn good at it, he needs to be able to buy more papers if he needs to.)

As I walked towards him, I knew something wasn't right. I tried to call out to him, but my mouth couldn't form the words. Before I knew it, I had fallen to the ground. My head must have hit something, because the next thing I knew, I wasn't outside anymore.

"Is he gonna die?" Six.

"Donno." Johnny.

"What happened?" Rum.

"Gave his coat to that girl..." Johnny.

"He's bleeding, Johnny."

"Jesus Christ..."

I was out again. No dreams, no black. I just skipped the sleep of unconsciousness and when I awoke, Johnny was still hovering over me. My head felt like it was imploding.

He must have seen my eyes open. "Thank God," he said with a huge sigh of relief. I stared up at him. "I think you're gonna be all right."

I didn't say anything; I couldn't remember how to. I was so tired and confused, but I was warm. There must have been twenty blankets covering me. I was back in my bed at the lodging house.

"I guess you got real cold, and when that happens, you can't really move and stuff, so you fell, and must have hit your head," he said. So that's why my head hurt. "Your kid's fine. I went and got your brother when we couldn't wake you up. He took her out to get some food." He laughed a little. "We all thought you were a goner, Les, you idiot. You've been out for nearly an entire day now. When you hit your head, there was so much blood..." He paused. "Talk to me, Les. Say something."

I managed a mumble, but I don't think I was actually saying words. "I'll get you something hot to drink," Johnny said. "Rum says no alcohol though, and I donno why I'd give you alcohol anyways. Seems to me he just said that 'cause he knows from experience."

All I wanted to do was sleep. I worried about my little girl, but I had the feeling that I should be worrying more about myself. I felt sick and restless, so I closed my eyes and waited for sleep. Before long, it came, and I was happy again.


	9. It's perfect for

I awoke to the sound of Johnny Slye's voice. "You're brother's gonna be fine, Davey. He's in good hands."

"Good hands or not, I'd feel better if I took him back home to our mother."

"That ain't your choice to make, and you know that."

I opened my eyes. Rosie was curled up in bed next to me, asleep, her tiny arms clinging to my bicep. My head still hurt like hell. With what strength I had, I brought my hand up to my forehead, just above my eyebrow. I touched my fingers to where I felt the most pain, and a sharp pinch rushed towards where my skin touched bandages. Raised under those bandages...stitches? I couldn't tell.

"He's awake." I looked over to see David walking towards me. "Les, talk to me. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," I replied as I lowered my arm and rested it on top of the blanket.

Davey frowned at my use of language. "You really had me worried," he said. "You had us all worried. What were you thinking?"

"David, go away. Let me rest."

"I won't go away. You think you're ready for responsibilities, but you're not! You need to grow up before you can even begin to think about caring for a child!"

"That's what he was doing, Davey," Johnny said behind him. "That's why he hurt himself. He gave Rosie his coat and got hypo-whatever-it's-called. That's why he fell."

"It doesn't matter how or why he hurt himself," David argued. "The point is that we've been dancing around this long enough. Les, I won't ask you again. If you don't go back home to our mother, I'll be forced to call the police."

"You can't do that!" I yelled. Pain shot all over my head, and I closed my eyes tightly in an attempt to make it go away.

"I can, and I will." David sighed. "I just want everybody to be happy. I'll be at mama's apartment tomorrow afternoon. Bring the girl, if you want. I'm sure mama won't mind taking her in." Davey paused for a moment. "Don't think I'm joking around, Lester Alan Jacobs, because I'm not. I'll see you tomorrow."

David turned and, after glancing at a very angry Johnny, made his way out of the bunkroom and eventually out into the street. Rosemary was awake by this time, and she was looking up at me.

"You slept for a really long time," she said.

"Did I?"

"Yeah." She sat up. "I got bored without you. Nobody would play with me."

I smiled weakly. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. We'll have plenty of time to play when I'm feeling better."

"Hey, Les." I turned my eyes towards Johnny. "Poppy Parkview's downstairs. She's been here for a couple of hours now. You want me to let her up?"

Poppy. I'd completely forgotten about her. "Yeah, sure thing."

Johnny walked over and put his hand on Rosie's shoulder. "You wanna go throw some snowballs or something, kid?" he asked.

Rosie's face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. She jumped out of the bed and rushed to pull on her mittens and shoes. Johnny helped her with her coat, which I remembered to be grey and thin, but this one was red and brand-new.

"Hey, where'd you get that coat?" I asked.

"Your brother bought it for her," Johnny replied as he knelt down in front of Rosie. He began to fasten the clasps on the front. "He got you a new one too. It's brown. New mittens too, and a cap for her." Johnny held up a matching red hat, which he proceeded to shove onto Rosie's head.

"But he doesn't have the money for that..."

"Obviously, he does." Johnny stood up. "All right, kid, let's go."

"Bye Les!" Rosie exclaimed. Johnny took her hand and she dragged him out of the bunkroom. I sighed deeply. David was going to make me feel like I owed him for the clothes, and that it was my duty to go home. I wasn't going to let him pull me away from what I wanted and the life I'd built for myself.

Poppy's head appeared at the doorway. "Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

"Of course you can," I replied. "How's it rollin'?"

She gave me a small smile. "Don't even start with the 'how's it rollin''," she said. "Six told me about what happened and, well, I guess I just kinda felt like I should come and see how you're doing."

There was silence for a little bit. I wasn't a big fan of the silence. "How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Oh, about four hours," Poppy replied, and my jaw dropped. "Well, I've been in Manhattan for nearly a day now, but just four hours downstairs."

"Why were you waiting so long? You could have woken me up. You know I would see you."

"That's the thing," she said. "I _didn't_ know."

There was more awkward silence. Poppy bit the outside of her lip as she stared down at my blankets. She was the most absolutely perfect creature I'd ever seen, and believe me, I've seen a lot of apparently pretty girls. But none were ever like this.

To the average guy, Poppy was just another good-looking accessory, but to me, she was everything. I realized it then as she sat at the edge of my bed, biting her lip and near tears because she was afraid. Of what, I couldn't say. It could have been one of two things. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," she replied, but she didn't look at me. Her voice sounded strained.

"It don't seem like you're all right," I said. I lifted my arm and placed it on her hand, which was resting on the bed. It was bold, I know. It was just about the boldest thing I've ever done when I was around a girl, but it felt right to do it.

I heard her inhale sharply when she felt my hand, and saw her eyes dash down to see it. "Les—"

"Shh," I silenced her. "Don't say anything. Don't ruin it. I just want to sit here, alone with you."

Poppy turned her head to me. Here eyes had begun to water. She blinked, sending her tears to her eyelashes, and causing them to stick together. It was gorgeous. Her eyes caught mine, and she immediately began to cry.

"You could have died, Les...Six thought you were going to. He said that when he helped Johnny bring you in, your face was covered with—"She sobbed. "—With blood. And you were pale and wet and stiff. He came to Brooklyn and told me everything. I mean, it ain't like you and I are best friends or anything, but I like you." She sniffed and opened her mouth to be able to breathe. "I mean, I really, _really_ like you."

I just stared at her. Obviously she was incredibly upset. I had no idea that what happened to me was such a big deal, but it seemed like everybody was pretty broken up about it—David, Johnny, and especially Poppy.

"And you don't have to like me too," she continued as tears fell down her perfect cheeks. "Really, you don't have to. God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. We've only known each other for three hours, tops! And here I am pouring my heart out to you when you should be resting. I'm sorry..."

Poppy stood up, but I took her hand. "No, you don't have to leave," I said. "I don't want you to."

She sniffled twice and swallowed. "...Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Really. I like having you around. Come on, sit back down." Poppy set herself on the edge of the bed again and twisted so she was facing me. "So you ain't mad at me or nothin'?" she asked quietly before rubbing her eyes.

"Of course I ain't mad," I replied with a soft smile. I took my other hand and held it up to your face. "How could I be mad when you're here? Everything's just fine when I'm with you."

Her expression softened. "You're not just makin' that up, neither?"

"No, Poppy. I'm not."

I wiped the tears from her cheekbones with my thumb. "Les?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach turned (but in the good way.) I'd only ever kissed one girl, and that was on a dare. She had slapped me and snorted off while Johnny and Rum laughed their asses off—they knew she'd do it, and they'd set me up to get a good chuckle. Rum had a black eye for nearly two weeks when I caught up to him.

I ran my hand through her perfect red hair. "Nothing would make me happier," I replied.

Poppy smiled, and a huge weight lifted off of my chest as she leaned over and gently pressed her lips against mine. I could feel her hair brush across my cheeks and neck. She trailed her fingertips softly along my jawbone. It was the most right then that had happened to me in a long time.

But it ended too soon. Poppy pulled her face away from mine and smiled. "I should be going," she whispered.

"Your friends will worry," I whispered back. "You are a tight-knit group, after all." Poppy laughed a little.

"Please take care of yourself, Les," she said as she stood up. Her hand was still inside mine. "Lord knows what I'll do if anything happens to you."

My lips tasted like her. "Don't you worry about me. Just be careful, you hear?" She nodded. I squeezed her hand gently, and she turned away and left.

I waited a minute or two, and then let out a loud, ecstatic yell, which turned into a laugh. The day had been (nearly) perfect. If there wasn't a big, bloody cut on my head, I would have it _made_.

Over the next few weeks, I saw more and more of Poppy as I healed. Johnny had become an uncle of sorts to Rosie, and she was no longer the shy and sad child she had been at first, but now a laughing, smiling, beautiful little girl—_my_ beautiful little girl.

Poppy would occasionally come to Manhattan and take Rosie out to sell papers, and buy hot cocoa and cake for the three of us with the profits. Nothing could be better.

I was surprised, though, that I didn't see or hear from David. This was the second time he threatened to turn me in and hadn't. I still maintained that it was because he did understand me, but didn't want to admit it for fear of not being "responsible." I loved my brother; truly, I did. He was just a big asshole most times I saw him.

My life was perfect—I had the most loyal friends a guy could ask for, I found someone to grow up for, and I was in love. I had finally found the excitement and happiness I had been craving for ever since I was eleven.

In April, my perfect world fell apart.

* * *

Buttons--You're here! For a moment, I thought I'd lost you to some kind of strange disease/natural disaster, but I guess not! Your reviews = something to look forward to. And that's totally a good thing! I wish all men were like older!Les...things would just be so much easier that way...

Bookey--school totally sucks. Just make sure you don't get caught during class writing fanfic...try explaining that to your teachers. that's my ultimate horror story...I'd feel so dumb. "Yeah...it's a story I'm writing based on this 1992 Disney musical about paperboys...it's really good!" yeah...or not

Dreamer--Ahh, band practice AFTER SCHOOL? WHAAAA? What's up with that? Weird. Um, have fun with that...? Or not. I don't even think anyone NEEDS to remind me to update soon. I put out, what, like a chapter every night? I'm so pathetically awesome. at least, I think I am

Repeat--I'm not saying anything about Rosie troubles right now, but I've got some stuff in my head that makes me super sad, so of course I'm gonna put it in to the story! But I'm not saying a word right now--it'll be more sad when the time comes!

Cricket--::::protecive arm around Rosie::: Noooo touchie! Ha, actually, you can if you wish. I'm flexible and awesome like that. So, you know, if I see you around in all black and a ski mask, ready to kidnap my characters, I'll know it's you, right? Right. Awesome.


	10. The world vs

February had left me with an ugly pinkish scar above my right eyebrow. Rosie would run her fingers across it and ask, "Does it hurt you, Les?"

"Not anymore," I would tell her.

Life at that point was great. I couldn't have asked for anything that I didn't already have. Content with the way things were going, I relaxed a bit, and began to have fun.

Poppy and I took Rosie to Coney Island twice—both times in April. The three of us rode the Ferris wheel until we could hardly take it anymore, and after that we'd fill ourselves with all the popcorn and candy we could afford with the money Rosie helped us make.

That second trip to the island was the last time our makeshift family was happy together.

We were on our way home. The sky above us had long since turned black. Rosie sat up on my shoulders; with one hand I held her feet securely to my chest. Poppy had sweetly taken my free hand in hers. As we walked, she stared up at the sky.

"I can see stars tonight, Les," she said quietly.

I, too, looked up. "Yeah," I replied. "They're great." Normally I didn't pay any attention to the sky, but lately Poppy had made me realize how pretty it really was. Why hadn't I noticed before?

Because now you're in love, I answered myself. Lots of other things made much more sense now that I had Poppy, like the meaning of devotion, and why we were alive.

We were about halfway home when I smelled smoke. I thought nothing of it; fires in trash cans were pretty common things to sense on cool nights. I began to worry, however, when I noticed that a cloud of smoke had formed, and its origin was in the direction of the lodging house.

"You don't think...?" I asked as I looked at Poppy.

"I don't know," she said. "But that's an awful lot of smoke, Les."

As we rounded the corner onto Duane street, I found that what I feared was true. I stared wide-eyed at the lodging house, which was engulfed in flames.

"Les, what's happening?" Rosie asked from my shoulders. I let got of Poppy's hand and crouched down. As soon as Rosie's feet were planted securely on the ground, I stood up.

"I donno, sweetheart," I said. My home was on fire. Everyone was standing outside on the street, as were all the neighbors. There were so many people, I was afraid I'd loose my girl. I grabbed on to Rosie's tiny hand. "Whatever you do, Rosie, do _not_ let go of me."

Poppy had already run up to the mob of people. She was yelling for Six. Rosie and I made our way towards the crowd, and I scanned it for Johnny. Sure enough, there he was, closest to the burning building. I pulled Rosie over to him.

"What the hell happened?" I yelled over the noise.

Johnny didn't even look at me. He stared up at the lodging house. Sweat and ash covered his face. "Six fell asleep with a cigarette," he replied. He had this blank look on his face. It was something that happened when he didn't know what to do.

"Is he all right?" I asked.

"No," Johnny said. "I think he's dead, Les."

Johnny's words hit me right in the chest. "...Dead?"

"Yeah, dead," Johnny said angrily. He turned to face me. "How many times do you want me to say it, Les? He's _dead_, all right? He's dead."

"Les!" Poppy yelled. She came up behind me. "I can't find Six." I only stared at her. What was I supposed to say? "Les, are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Your cousin's gone, Poppy," Johnny told her. Well, that took care of things. "He lit a cigarette and fell asleep. His clothes caught on fire, and so did his bed, and then the rest of the building." Poppy only blinked. Her mouth was slightly open. She glanced at the lodging house, which was still very much on fire. "I'm sorry, Poppy."

She didn't say a word, but only closed her mouth, looked at me for a moment, and then walked away.

I let go of Rosie and followed her.

"Poppy, wait!" I yelled as I ran after her to catch up. "Please, just wait for a second!"

"Les, don't," she said over her shoulder. "I'm going back to Brooklyn. Leave me alone."

I was close enough to put my hand on her shoulder. "You shouldn't be alone tonight," I told her. "Let me take you back to Brooklyn. I'll take you back to your place and I'll stay with the guys tonight. We'll come back to Manhattan tomorrow and make the arrangements for Six's funeral—"

"I don't want a funeral, Les," she interrupted. "I just want to forget." She bit her lip. "It'll work better that way. As far as I'm concerned, I never had a cousin."

I took her into my arms and let her cry. I felt pretty damn helpless. The girl I loved had just lost the only remaining family member she had, and all I could do was hold her.

But it seemed to be enough. We stood a block away from the lodging house until the fire was out and the people had all cleared away. Poppy had stopped crying, but I still held her.

"I donno how the Brooklyn boys will feel about having a little girl around," she said suddenly. "Maybe it'll be best if I take Rosie home with me tonight.  
I nodded. "Yeah, that's fine," I said. Then it dawned on me that I had no idea where Rosie was. "Oh Jesus..."

"Les?"

I ran towards the remains of the building, screaming Rosie's name. I didn't see her anywhere, but I saw Johnny. He sat on the sidewalk in front of the lodging house, and he looked hopeless.

"Johnny!" His head sprung up. "Have you seen Rosie?"

He shook his head. "She walked away after you left," he said. "I thought you had her."

I didn't waste any time in looking for her. I yelled as loud as I could, hoping and praying that she'd hear me and come out where she was hiding, but she never did, so I began to search. Poppy and I looked in every alley and walked up and down every street, but there was still no sign of my Rosemary. I yelled until it hurt to even utter the softest syllable. We stopped looking around midnight.

How could I have been so stupid? I sank to my knees in the middle of the sidewalk. I was half-lost, tired, and hoarse. I had no place to sleep. Everything I owned was gone.

I cried. No, I sobbed. I was in hysterics. At one point, Poppy put her hand on my shoulder, but I pushed her away.

"Go home," I croaked. My throat burned. I didn't even hear her walk away. I was alone in the middle of the night in Manhattan, with nowhere to go and nothing but the clothes on my back. I had no money, and one of my best friends was dead. I lost the only person who had ever depended on me for anything. I'd failed her.

I fell asleep where I'd fallen to my knees that night. When I woke up, the sun was just beginning to rise. I yawned and scanned my surroundings. The street was deserted, save for one boy with a half-empty bottle in his hand.

"You think it's too early to drink, Les?" Rum asked as he sat down next to me and offered his bottle to me.

I just stared at him. I didn't even want to try to talk. Rum took my hand and put the bottle in it. "Have a drink," he said. "You look like you could use it." So I took a sip, and then another. It tasted disgusting. I wasn't one to drink too often.

"What is this?" I asked with some difficulty.

"Whiskey," he replied.

"Where do you get this stuff?"

"Wherever they'll sell it to me."

I gave him back his bottle. There was no use in getting drunk during the day. Besides, I had things I needed to do. "Hey Rum?"

"Yeah, Les?"

"Do you know how to get to Brooklyn?"

* * *

I went to a Jack Johnson concert this weekend, while all of you guys were stuck at home...I win! I don't even know what's going to happen, so...yeah. Review!

Bookey—I can't concentrate enough in class to write fanfic. I donno, maybe I'm just weird like that. Anyways, "oh my dead shit"? ...Where did THAT come from? You = awesome

Kpstar25—And you still read! Haha, thanks!

Dreamer—Now that I read over the reviews, and everybody's like, hooray Rosie, etc...I feel bad for losing her! But maybe this'll work out or something, we'll see. Have fun with that whole marching thing... (And by 'have fun' I mean 'tolerate')

Cricket—I think that if Davey lightened up a bit, the world would be a much better place, and so would The Movie! He's kinda cute, though, so I can't complain. And PS—if you do decide to kidnap Rosie, let me know where she is, coz I obviously can't find her!

Buttons—Hooray for muses! Ontario is, like, not very far away from Wisconsin. It's like we're related, except not. Your long reviews put a smile on my heart, if hearts could smile. I don't think they can.

Lady Rach—David is dumb, so it's okay. I love Les. Here's your update! (A la "here's your knife!)


	11. Rum shows Brooklyn to

"I can't believe you've never been to Brooklyn before, Les," Rum said to me as we walked.

"Of course I've been to Brooklyn," I replied. We were on the bridge, which was huge. I had no idea it was so big. "Just once, though, for Spot Conlon's funeral."

_David had his hand on my shoulder. I had never even met Spot Conlon, but yet I was at his funeral. Jack and Sarah had returned from New Mexico to bury their friend. They'd be in town for only a week._

_So many people were crammed into that church. Hundreds even stood outside just to pay their respects. I looked up at Jack, whose expression was stone cold. As I glanced around, I noticed only blank faces. Brooklyn boys didn't cry._

"Oh yeah, I remember that," said Rum. "That really sucked. You would think that someone like Conlon would go out with his head held high, not beaten up in some alley."

"Yeah...you ever met him?"

"Course I met him! Everybody's met him."

"I never did."

"Yeah, and that's because you're a pansy."

"Shut up."

We walked in silence for a few minutes. At seven thirty in the morning, Brooklyn was awake and alive. There was no need for us to talk.

Both of the lodging houses in Brooklyn were on the same street, right next to each other. Quite conveniently, they were very close to the bridge.

"Now I'm gonna warn you right now, Jacobs, 'cause I like you: don't tick off Brooklyn."

I blinked and asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just what I said. Don't make 'em angry." Rum began to explain, "Like bees, they are. You make them mad, they'll sting you. Most importantly, don't piss off their leader."

Ah, yes. Who could forget the infamous Ace Ballard? What a jackass. He took the throne the second that news began to spread about Spot Conlon's murder. I'd never met Ace either, but from what I heard about him from Poppy, he was a real jerk.

_Poppy. _The entire reason why we were in Brooklyn in the first place. "Rum, we gotta go see the girls."

He raised an eyebrow. "So we came all this way to see Brooklyn girls?" Understanding slowly swept over his expression. "Oh, right, your girlfriend." He paused. "She know about Six?"

"Well, she was there last night. Draw your own conclusions."

The Brooklyn Newsgirls' Lodging House was slightly smaller than the boys', but both were pretty much identical. As we opened the door, I felt incredibly stupid for some reason. I couldn't place my finger on it.

A tiny little blonde girl sat on the front desk, picking at her fingernails. She looked up at us and grinned. "Boys' house is next door, idiots."

"Yeah, we know," I said. "I'm looking for Poppy Parkview. Do you know where she is?"

She scoffed. "You tell me, Manhattan," she said.

"How do you—"

"You reek of Manhattan," she interrupted simply. "Poppy went out with that boy of hers' yesterday and didn't come back."

What? "She didn't come back?"

"Are you deaf? That's what I just said." The girl rolled her eyes. "Christ, I knew you guys were slow, but this is just ridiculous."

"Shut up," Rum growled. "Stupid bitch."

"Hey, who are you calling a stupid bitch?"

"You, you goddamn Brooklyn whore!"

"Rum!" I yelled. What happened to not making Brooklyn angry?

The little blonde girl hopped off of the desk. With her teeth gritted, she strode up to Rum and gave him a good punch right in the jaw.

"Jesus!" he yelled, falling back a bit. His hand flew to where she had hit him. "When I'm finished with you—"

"I grabbed Rum before he could throw himself at her. "Calm down!" I commanded. "Don't be such a jerk!"

"That bitch hit me!"

"I know. Just quit it, all right?" I sighed and looked at the Brooklyn girl. "I'm sorry," I told her. "My friend can get a little out of hand sometimes."

"So I noticed," she muttered.

"I'm Les Jacobs," I explained. "Poppy's my...well she's sort of...I guess you could say..."

"Ah...so you're this boy Poppy's been all head-over-heels for, huh?" she said with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess that would be me."

"Well in that case, I'm Bridget Roberts. Poppy and I sell together sometimes."

"So you really don't know where she is?" I asked.

Bridget shook her head. "We pretty much assumed she stayed the night with you," she said.

"No. Our boys' house burned down last night." Bridget's jaw dropped. "Yeah...I know."

"Oh my god!" she said. "Poppy's okay, right?"

"I think so. For all I know, she could still be in Manhattan. I donno. I slept on the street last night."

"Well, you're always welcome in Brooklyn," said Bridget. "Just leave your _friend_ in his own borough."

"Thanks. If Poppy shows up, just tell her I'm looking for her, all right?" She nodded in agreement. "Come on, Rum."

Rum shot Bridget a look. "This ain't over, you," he growled as he pointed at her. She only rolled her eyes.

"Take care of yourself, Jacobs," she said.

* * *

"Cigarette?"

"No." We sat on the stoop of the girls' lodge.

Rum lit a smoke and deeply inhaled. "I've got this feeling, Les, that our _friend_ Miss Roberts—slut—has given me quite a bad shiner. If that's the case...it was a guy. A huge Brooklyn guy, and he did it 'cause I kissed his girl."

"Right, Rum."

"I'm serious! I got a reputation to protect, here!" He rubbed the spot where Bridget's fist had connected with his jaw, and winced a little.

"Well it ain't like we're all gonna be living in the same place no more," I said. "I wonder what the city'll do about the lodging house."

"Probably forget about it," Rum shrugged. "We don't matter to them, anyways. I suggest moving to a different borough. It'll be quite the walk if you wanna still sell in Manhattan, but it might be worth it."

I sighed. Maybe I would stay in Brooklyn, with Poppy. I felt horrible about pushing her away the night before. The whole reason I went to Brooklyn was to apologize, and to see if I could employ her to help me find Rosie.

Something occurred to me. "Six was a Brooklyn newsie a few years ago, right?"

Rum thought for a moment. "Yeah, until Conlon died. Why?"

"Don't you think somebody should tell the Brooklyn guys about what happened?"

He blinked. "You go right ahead. I'm staying out of it."

"Why not? You got some kind of problem with Brooklyn?"

"No, I ain't got no problem," Rum said. "It's just that I've never really told nobody that somebody they know died, and I wouldn't know what to say."

"Well at least come with me, then."

"No."

"It's right next door!"

Rum thought about it for a moment. "Fine," he said. "I'll go, but on two conditions: one, that I do no talking, and two, that I do no talking."

"That's only one condition, Rum," I told him.

"I know," he replied. "I just thought it would sound better if I said two conditions." What an idiot.

We got up off of the girls' stoop and walked about twenty feet over to the next stoop, which was the guys'. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Here goes nothing," I said mostly to myself.

As the two of us walked through the door, we got a couple of stares. Most of the boys had left already to sell their papers, but a fair share of them had stayed behind. Brooklyn was one of the lazier boroughs, with Manhattan coming in a very close second.

"You need something?" one of them asked.

"I need to speak with Ace Ballard."

"You got an appointment?"

"No, I don't got an appointment," I said. "I didn't think I needed one. It's kinda one of those spur-of-the-moment types of things."

"Sorry, Manhattan, but if you ain't got no appointment, you don't see the boss."

Rum scratched his head. "How did you know we're from Manhattan?" he asked.

The guy shrugged. "You just smell like Manhattan, is all," he said.

"So you Brooklynites have super senses, or what?" I asked. "Because the girl next door said the same thing."

"We don't got super senses," said a voice from the top of the stairs. I looked up. "We's just smart."

I knew right from then and there that he was Ace Ballard. It was probably the way he carried himself: back straight, head up, arms at his sides. He had a mop of black curly hair that fell into green eyes. I suppose many girls found him pretty handsome.

"What brings you two to Brooklyn?" he asked.

"Bad news, actually," I replied. "I'm Les Jacobs. This here's Rum Richmond."

"That's fine," Ace said. "Now what's your bad news?"

"It's about Six Parkview, who was a newsie here a few years ago."

"Yeah, I remember the guy," Ace said with a nod. "So what happened to him?"

"Our lodging house burned down last night," I said. "It was his fault, actually, but it's no use blaming him. He died."

Ace's eyes fell to the floor. He nodded a little, and asked, "No joke, right? He's really dead?"

"Why would I joke about something like that?"

"I donno. I guess I don't know you, so I can't really trust you."

"Well you know me now, and trust me, he's dead," I said. I don't think it really had sunk in yet that he was gone. "Poppy Parkview says she doesn't want a funeral, but if you want to give him one, then by all means, go right ahead."

"Yeah, I'll think about it," said Ace. He spit in his hand and held it for me to shake. "Thanks, Jacobs."

I did the same and shook his head. "Anytime." Well, that wasn't so bad. Ace Ballard wasn't too much of an asshole, now that I'd met him. I guess the lesson for the day was not to trust what your friends said.

Or maybe not, but still. Thus ends my adventure in Brooklyn. Rum and I made our way slowly back towards Manhattan. The only thought on my mind now was Rosie, and how the hell I was going to find her.

* * *

No time for actual shoutouts today (coz I gotta get going to bible study!) but I will say a super awesome thanks to my Review Crew--specifically Bookey, Buttons, Cricket, Dreamer, and Raeghann. You guys get a choco-covered newsie of your choice and a gold star. Happy reviewing!


	12. Author's Note

Bad news, kids. My computer went crazy. I'm typing this from my neighbors' house, actually. I don't know when I expect my stupid piece of crap to be working again, but it might be a long time. I'll still be writing, though, so expect a HUGE update when I come back. Thanks bunches! I'll be back soon!

Best wishes,

Tina


	13. Another Author's Note

Chapter 13 is gone...mostly because I hated it. Haha, I know, I'm being a bit harsh, but it was very hurriedly written and there was an overall low-quality feel to it. So thanks a bunch, Raeghann and Buttons for the reviews, the criticism rocked a lot. I'll re-write this a bit later, when I can get a hold of a computer that has a spacebar that works ALL the time, as opposed to just some of the time.

In the meantime, keep the reviews coming with words of encouragement in my difficult times...lol, not really. I love you, though, if you actually still read this story. But anyways!

I also have a new story brewing around in my head about some of the lesser-known boys (Itey, Snoddy, Pie-Eater...those three are my favorites!) so maybe that'll pop in sometime in the future.

See you all when I'm done rewriting chapter 13!

-Tina


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